Today, her heart is fragile like a paper near a flame. She is small and trying to be smaller, afraid of her own significance. She is vulnerable, open, chapped from the wind and without a coat. Today she is timid, skirting her shadow, and the drop of one angry word from your mouth will be a large enough blow to shatter her tiny shell. She is holding tight to her insecurities, lifting them to you like an invisible bouquet. She longs to bring each one to you, to have you slay them with the kind words on your tongue, but fear keeps her from letting them off her lips and into the room. Today, she cannot voice it, but her eyes implore it: take your time with me.
Yesterday, she was deep inside the cave of rage. She lifted its torch and toyed with its power, experimenting on those closest to her. Yesterday, she stabbed you, through the sword of insult and the knife of cold indifference. Yesterday, her arms were long and her face was wild and nothing was out of her reach. She took her pain and spread it on the walls and furniture until the room was dripping in it. Yesterday, she had to wear glasses to look at you, lest your love pierce her eyes and derail her. Yesterday, she got on her horse and trampled your efforts in order to mask her own confusion. Yet, through it all, she was silently pleading with you: take your time with me.
Tomorrow, she will be magnificent. Tomorrow, her soul will bloom, and her flowering heart will reach as far as the salt of the ocean. Her eyes will be washed of anger , cleansed of self pity, and radiance will beam in their wake. Tomorrow, she will drink deeply from the well of your love. It will race in victory throughout her veins as it proudly claims every part of her. Tomorrow, she will look at you directly, because you beheld the worst in her and carried her still. She will speak words laced in richness and confidence, and will become astonishingly beautiful. The warmth etched in each line on her face will give reason for her transformation: you took your time with me.